Seasons in the sun
by bloodstar
Summary: Song fic. Michael has had it with his life in Roswell, so he leaves.


DISCLAIMER: Me no own.  
  
RATING: PG-13 for dark images or something.  
  
SUMMARY: Angsty. Song-fic. Michael has had it with his life in Roswell, so he leaves it.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This probably sucks since it's my first attempt at angst and songfic. This is what happens when you get stuck in a taxi that plays the oldies station, you think up a fic in your head, then you wait a whole buncha months to actually write it down. Don't forget to read and review!  
  
  
  
Goodbye to you my trusted friend  
  
We've known each other since we were nine or ten  
  
Together we climbed hills and trees  
  
learned of love and A B C's  
  
Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees.  
  
***  
  
Why is this song in my head? I hate this. You'd think I would hear Metallica or something, but I guess the world hates me.  
  
Max, you were once my trusted friend, but now, I don't know you. You stole my life. Your life was perfect and still you stole mine.  
  
Izzy, my sister, supposed destined mate. I won't forget you. You were probably my best friend all along. Not Maxwell.  
  
***  
  
Goodbye my friend it's hard to die  
  
***  
  
This song is lying you know. It's easy to die. But I think that's because the guy who wrote it probably had people who cared about him. Did I mention how much I hate this song? It reminds me of what I never had. Max, you stopped caring about me as soon as Liz started paying attention to you. Or did you care at all?  
  
***  
  
When all the birds are singing in the sky  
  
Now that the spring is in the air  
  
Pretty girls are everywhere  
  
Think of me and I'll be there  
  
***  
  
You bet I'll be there. Haunting you. Did you enjoy my life? My love? I hope it's worth all the haunting I'll be doing. Now I understand why Kyle and Khivar and Courtney and all the rebel skins hated you. You selfish bastard. I hate you. I'll haunt you forever if you care enough to notice.  
  
***  
  
We had joy we had fun  
  
we had seasons in the sun  
  
***  
  
Seasons in Roswell? Yeah right. After the shooting, there were only two. When Max and Liz were together and when they weren't.  
  
***  
  
But the hills that we climbed were just seasons  
  
Out of time...  
  
  
  
Goodbye Papa please pray for me  
  
***  
  
Excuse me, for I must snort at this statement. Papa I have not. If Hank was alive I doubt he would notice I was dead.  
  
  
  
***  
  
I was the black sheep of the family  
  
***  
  
That part I agree with.  
  
  
  
You tried to teach me right from wrong  
  
Too much wine and too much song  
  
Wonder how I got along.  
  
***  
  
It seems my head has a sad sense of irony choosing this as my last, dying song. Hank teaching me anything besides how to drink myself into oblivion? I really don't recall when that happened. The only other lesson he taught me was how to get your son to hate you.  
  
  
  
***  
  
Goodbye Papa it's hard to die  
  
Again. Lying about the difficulty of this. I think it's easier than living with you "Papa".  
  
When all the birds are singing in the sky  
  
Now that the spring is in the air  
  
Little children everywhere  
  
When you see them I'll be there.  
  
  
  
We had joy we had fun  
  
We had seasons in the sun  
  
But the wine and the song like the seasons  
  
Have all gone.  
  
  
  
We had joy we had fun  
  
We had seasons in the sun  
  
But the wine and the song like the seasons  
  
Have all gone.  
  
  
  
Goodbye Michelle my little one  
  
You gave me love and helped me find the sun  
  
And every time that I was down  
  
You would always come around  
  
And get my feet back on the ground.  
  
Finally something true in this damn song. I was lonely before you, and I am lonely now that you left. Left me for who? Billy? You said for yourself, but how can I trust your word now? You were the one that wasn't supposed to hurt me and look what you did. I sometimes lie in bed thinking about all the times we lay there together. Talking about our future together. What happened? How come your 'self' never made it known then? Back when I had no dreams, no expectations? When I knew you would leave me eventually? No, you had to wait until I thought I had something permanent, something unconditional, then kill it. Now, I'm dead inside. Soon I'll be dead outside. And I don't care.  
  
  
  
  
  
Goodbye Michelle it's hard to die  
  
When all the birds are singing in the sky  
  
Now that the spring is in the air  
  
With the flowers everywhere  
  
I wish that we could both be there  
  
  
  
We had joy we had fun  
  
We had seasons in the sun  
  
But the stars we could reach  
  
Were just starfish on the beach  
  
  
  
Perhaps even my head doesn't care. It doesn't care that none of this song applies to my pathetic life and it doesn't care that I hate this friggin song. It doesn't care that this is my dying breath and I can't seem to find one happy thought.  
  
  
  
We had joy we had fun  
  
We had seasons in the sun  
  
But the stars we could reach  
  
Were just starfish on the beach  
  
  
  
Maybe I should have killed myself after Maria left. It would have been easier. Easier than finding her and Max together in his bedroom. Perhaps I should have ended it all then. It was easier when I lost her to Billy. But fate has a way of kicking you in the balls and grinding them into dust with her heel. I think she said, 'Michael hasn't suffered enough, why don't we see what'll happen after he finds his best friend screwing the girl he loves.'  
  
I hate Fate. I hate Max. But I love Maria, and I can't survive this anymore.  
  
***  
  
We had joy we had fun  
  
We had seasons in the sun  
  
But the wine and the song like the seasons  
  
Have all gone  
  
  
  
All our lives we had fun  
  
We had seasons in the sun  
  
But the hills that we climbed were just seasons  
  
Out of time...  
  
***  
  
Bye imaginary people in the song! You sound better than the real people in my life. At least you are here now with me as I am released from my torment.  
  
***  
  
We had joy we had fun  
  
We had seasons in the sun  
  
  
  
*** ~***  
  
Isabel Evans burst through the doors of Michael's apartment. She'd been knocking for five minutes straight, but there was no answer. He had to be there, though. He should be there; his bike was still outside.  
  
As she walked in, she felt a chill go up her spine. She rubbed her bare arms to fight the cold. The apartment was silent. Eerily so. It made her worried.  
  
"Michael?" she called. Only silence answered her plea.  
  
She walked further into the old apartment. Past the couch, past the kitchen, into the bedroom. The room was dark, the only light coming from a glowing clock on the dresser. She could make out Michael's sleeping form on the bed. As she turned to leave, she noticed an envelope on the table with her name scrawled on the front. She made her way into the living room and sat on the couch, opening the letter.  
  
Tears cascaded down Isabel's cheeks as she read the letter. It couldn't be true. He couldn't have killed himself. What could have happened to make him do it?  
  
She picked up the phone and shakily dialed her home number. A groggy Max answered the phone after a while.  
  
"Call Liz and Maria and Valenti and meet me at Michael's," was all she said before hanging up.  
  
She took a deep breath, then slowly walked into Michael's bedroom. He still lay on his side under the thin white sheet. She turned on the light, then noticed the stains. The big red stains that covered the bed sheets. She felt for the pulse she knew would not be there, then went back into the living room to wait on the others.  
  
Ten minutes later, Michael's living room was filled with teenagers and one adult. They were all staring at Isabel in concern. They hadn't seen her cry so much since Alex died. But this time was different, because this time there was a glint of anger in her eyes. She clutched a piece of paper in her hands as she stared at all of them.  
  
"Izzy, what is it?" asked Max as he moved to hug her. She flinched from his touch and backed away.  
  
"Don't touch me!" she cried. Max stared at her in confusion.  
  
"Isabel, what's wrong?" asked Kyle gently.  
  
"Why don't you ask them?" she said, icily, pointing at Max and Maria. She buried her face in Kyle's chest and sobbed. Kyle gently took the paper away from her and read it.  
  
"What does it say?" asked Valenti.  
  
"He's dead," Kyle stated, "Michael's dead."  
  
"What? Who killed him, does it say?" Maria asked.  
  
"You did," Isabel growled. "You and Max. Exactly what does he mean when he says 'Tell her that I hope Max makes her happy' Maria? He's talking about you, so what did you do this afternoon to push him over the edge?"  
  
Max and Maria blushed and stared at the floor, ashamed.  
  
"Oh my god, you slept together, didn't you?" Liz asked, near tears.  
  
"Liz, it was a mistake…"  
  
"Max, shut up! This is your fault, so shut up," Kyle snapped.  
  
"This isn't my fault!"  
  
"It is, and I'll quote: 'Assure him that it is mostly his fault.' Max, how could you do this to him? You knew how he felt."  
  
"Why don't you just tell us what the letter says?" Valenti suggested calmly.  
  
Kyle spoke in a soft tone, repeating the last words of a lost friend. Another of their group was gone, taken from them. Who would be next? Liz? Isabel? His father? He didn't want to know.  
  
  
  
Dear Izzy,  
  
I'm sorry. I'm sorry to leave you alone, but I can't take it anymore. I can't take this life anymore. We may have been sent to save our people, but our people forgot to send someone to save me.  
  
Tell Maria that I loved her. Tell her that I hope Max makes her happy. Makes her feel like I never could.  
  
Tell Max, that selfish bastard that I hate him. I hate him like I hate Hank. What he did hurt me more than any blow from Hank ever could. Assure him that this is mostly his fault.  
  
Tell Valenti and Mr. Evans that they were the fathers I never had. That I wish I was adopted by one of them if only to prevent myself from becoming such a loser.  
  
Tell Liz that it's not the end of the world just because Max left her. She doesn't have to follow me because she has other things to live for. Other people who care about her. I never had that luxury.  
  
Tell Kyle that I'll miss his damn Buddha obsession and that I hope he finds somebody to share it with him. Tell him that just because there are only two guys in the group now doesn't mean that he should befriend Max. Contrary to what you think your life doesn't have to revolve around this secret.  
  
Tell Jesse that if he hurts you in any way I will haunt him until his dying day, then I'll nag him when he joins me here. Wherever here might be.  
  
And lastly, Izzy, I want to say that I'm sorry for being a screw up. A thorn in your side. I hope you're happy in your life and I hope that you get everything you dream of. Take care of Maria for me. I'll take care of Alex for you, if I go to the same place. I'll miss you, Izzy. Don't forget that I love you.  
  
Goodbye.  
  
Michael.  
  
At the end of the letter everyone was crying, either from grief or shame or both. They cried for the one who cared too much, but wasn't cared for enough. He would never be back. They would never again see his sarcastic smirk or hear his annoyed comments. A part of them was gone forever and there was nothing they could do.  
  
Days later, as they buried him in the cold soil of the Roswell Cemetery, the sun shone and the birds sang. They all placed flowers on the lonely tombstone that held only five words.  
  
1 Michael Guerin  
  
1983-2002  
  
We'll miss you… 


End file.
